The Pacific profiles series shines a light on Pacific people in Aotearoa doing interesting and important work in their communities, as nominated by members of the public. Today, Tiria Tiria.

All photos by Geoffery Matautia.

On a Saturday afternoon at Lower Hutt’s Naenae College, I sat with Mr Tiria as his students practised outside for their annual Hutt Valley cultural festival. Tiria wove pales (Tokelauan headpieces) as he spoke on what it means to be a Pacific teacher, Indigenising the school curriculum, what he believes students need more of, and the very real struggles he sees in schools. 

Tiria teaches English, and leads the cultural group. He’s known for going the extra mile for students, and making everyone feel welcome, regardless of their background or academic level.

Are you originally from Wellington?

No! I was born and raised in the heart of Auckland – South Auckland! Mangere East to be precise. My grandparents and parents were born and raised in the Cook Islands – Mangaia, Tongareva, Aitutaki and Rarotonga.

Have you always wanted to go into teaching?

It didn’t start with teaching at first. I studied English and philosophy because I was still tryna figure out what I wanted to do. I took a year off and didn’t know if I really wanted to go into teaching. But I found my way down here to attend a Cook Islands tertiary students conference. I’d never been to Wellington before, but I liked the vibe of it.

My cousin lived in the Hutt Valley and she said, “I think there’s a job opening at [Naenae] College.” I wasn’t thinking of teaching here, but I wanted to come for a look around. When I compare it to the school I went to in South Auckland I thought “Wow, this place is flash!” I came from a school that didn’t have two storeys, so anything above one storey was flash for me. 

What attracted you to Naenae College?

This is the first and only school I’ve taught at – 2024 is my tenth year here. When I met the principal for the first time he said “Oh! You are brown.” Not in a bad way, but because at the time it was really hard to get Pacific teachers anywhere. He sent me to the head of English who was teaching a class for students needing extra literacy assistance. That was step one for me being hooked into this school because they identified students who needed help and created contexts that would allow them to thrive. Having the boys in a small class, learning and joking as they do, and making it specific to them.

What hooked me next was going into a year 11 classroom. It was like walking into the United Nations. Kids from the Middle East, Africa, Pacific, Māori, all learning together. I come from quite a homogenous community, so seeing everyone in one place was just wow. I didn’t realise until I went back to Auckland how culturally and socially segregated it was. That diversity made me want to be here. When I decided to move away, my family wasn’t happy. You know, you don’t usually do that in Pacific families.

Why English?

At university, I did a post-colonial English literature course and I realised “Oh, so you can study our (Pacific) literature”. It was only on reflection that I realised how a lot of the things I was taught in my high school (Southern Cross Campus) were post-colonial stories and films from Aotearoa, aboriginal Australia and across the Pacific – Shakespeare was the only white text we learnt. When I went back to my old school I spoke to my old English teachers and asked, “Was that intentional?” and they said “Yeah, we’re teaching for the kids in front of us.”

When I became a teacher, I made it my intention to do the same. I want to teach our stories. A lot of the students are shocked that I’m a brown, male English teacher. For our Pacific students, sometimes I’m their first Pacific teacher. The kids love that. I’ve always had good relationships with students, and it’s through these relationships that we start building a connection to English. You end up being the gateway.

When you say “our stories”, could you expand on what works you’re teaching?

We’ve done short texts, poems, and films tackling Indigenous and diasporic experiences. We did Vai, We Are Still Here, and Waru. The kids like seeing works where there are different points of view in one sitting. We’ve also done Māori texts, critical viewings of Stallone’s Three Wise Cousins and Take Home Pay, Dahlia Malaeulu’s books, Tusiata Avia’s poems and Albert Wendt. If they enjoy it, I teach it. They direct me in the way I teach. 

What have your students taught you?

Kids are simpler than adults. Adults are the drama. The kids have drama but it’s so boring, and it’s not even a big deal. It’s through their eyes I realise there are things we take for granted as adults, like not taking things too seriously. We need to take a chill pill now and again. The relationships are what keep me in the job. I’ve been told to go into senior management, but I haven’t hurried into those positions because I feel that I still have a lot to offer on the ground. If I go up there, then there’s that disconnect between me and the students. Sometimes I’m here to keep them grounded, if I’m up ‘there’ I won’t be able to hang with the kids and unpack what’s going on with them. Those are the things they need the most. People to be around when they need them. 

You said earlier that it’s been hard to find Pacific teachers. Why do you think there are so few of us in the job?

I reckon it’s the money. When I was at uni, everyone wanted to be a lawyer. A lot of teachers go into the job because they want to teach the next generation, and if you talk to any Pacific teacher – we’ve got the most in our part of Wellington – we’re here to try and lift achievement and, mostly, engagement. Having Pacific people in the front of the classroom as the leaders is something that encourages students to try their best and engage with the learning. But there’s not enough money.

So what I’m hearing is that we need to pay teachers more…

Yeah. It’s an awkward conversation. Everyone who works in underfunded sectors needs better pay. As an educator, we’re meant to be teaching the next generation but we don’t have enough of us to inspire the students.

We also have to talk about the brown burden. I think that’s why a lot of our Pacific teachers are leaving the profession. We’re trying to understand the ways of the Pālagi education system, trying to adapt our own Indigenous and diasporic knowledge onto our curriculum areas, we’re also having to counsel and do pastoral care for our students, be representatives for our communities, and speak on education and cultural matters. The burden can be draining. When does our wellbeing come into play?

There’s been a lot of changes to the education system as of late. New curriculums, a blanket phone ban in schools, what’s your take?

We’ve got other problems. Our kids are malnourished, they’re coming to school not fed, and they don’t even have shoes or rain jackets. We’re dealing with the real struggles of our community. If their wellbeing is not intact, we can’t teach them. Their heads, hearts, and stomachs won’t be there. We can’t get any education in if we can’t get them right.

I’m interested in hearing your perspective on what you think Pacific students need from their teachers and the education system more broadly.

People who understand them. You don’t necessarily have to be brown. Some Pacific students will tell you that their best teachers will be the ones that they have no cultural connection with, but they like them because the teacher is willing to spend time with them and understand them. They appreciate it when you’re firm and fair. We need people that acknowledge them for who they are; not objects that we are teaching to, but people to be understood and listened to. When I used to be a dean that was the conversation that’d always come up, “they’re talking at me, not to me.” You need to do that if you want to see a shift.

This is Public Interest Journalism funded by NZ On Air.